Untitled
by etherealdiscord
Summary: Grace spends Christmas Eve with the Girardi's. Chaos ensues.


**Disclamer: I own nothing but a role of duct tape and a red Sharpie. Don't sue. Kay?**

**Dedication: For Laura, Hannah and Whinnie.**

**Author's Note: Sanity? What is this thing you speak of? Just an odd little thing I had to write. Rated for bad words.**

**Sunday December 24, 2005:**

**7:00PM:**

Strange ringing noise coming from the couch. Move closer to investigate.

**7:03PM:**

After digging through mess of blankets and pillows, discover source of annoying ringing noise. Throw phone against wall.

Ah, I love the sound of electronics breaking.

**7:10PM:**

Ringing sound starts again. When did we get another phone?

**7:12PM:**

Damned phones. Leave the house to escape the ringing sound.

**7:13PM:**

Fall face first into a snow bank at the bottom of the porch steps. Must clean the ice off the steps.

**7:15PM:**

Remove self from snow bank and remember I was supposed to be at the Girardi's 15 minutes ago. Joan must have been the source of the ringing. Must stop for some kind of Christmas decoration.

**7:30PM:**

Arrive at the Girardi house with a bag of tinsel. Greeted by Luke's tongue down my throat. Not completely awful.

**7:31PM:**

Rove and Girardi are dressed in matching reindeer antlers. Not Rove's usual thing. Must be Girardi brainwashing. If they looked any 'cuter' I'd hurl.

**7:40PM:**

Investigation of the Girardi medicine cabinet reveals no pain killers. Also, no sedatives. If I hear one more rendition of "Jingle Bells" I swear I'm going to-

**8:00PM:**

Make out session in the Girardi bathroom cut short by Kevin's need to pee.

**8:01PM:**

Relocate back to the living room for 'Christmas festivities'. Wonder if the Girardi's understand the meaning of the words "But I'm Jewish..".

**8:07PM:**

Apparently not, as I am now wearing the 'adorable little antlers'.

**8:15PM:**

Consider lacing female Girardi's Nogg with poison. Or torching the antlers at least.

**8:16PM:**

This night can not get any worse.

**8:18PM:**

Yes, yes it can. Mrs. G has just announced it's time to trim the tree.

**8:19PM:**

I need alcohol.

**8:20PM:**

Shit. No I don't.

**8:21PM:**

Geek leaves the living room. Don't leave me alone with these people. Even Rove is getting in the holiday spirit. Are they all on drugs?

**8:29PM:**

Geek returns with a cup of coffee for my consumption. I love him.

**8:30PM: **

Wait.

**8:35PM:**

"It's A Wonderful Life" has illuminated the Girardi TV. Rove and Girardi have given up on the tree. Kevin and not-a-nun also appear to have left it, as they're parked in the back corner of the room with their lips fused together.

**8:40PM:**

Commercial break leads to an interesting advertisement for chocolate body paint. Hm.

**8:41PM:**

Did rocket boy just give me a suggestive look?

**8:50PM:**

I am _not _cuddling. I am _not _cuddling..

**8:51PM:**

I'm cuddling with Luke. What's wrong with me tonight?

**9:30PM:**

Give up on trying to understand this movie and drag the geek out for a walk.

**9:35PM:**

Consider assaulting the rent-a-Santa and his satanic bells of death.

**9:36PM:**

And then again, I could be over stressed.

**9:50PM:**

Arrive at the local 7-11. Apparently we need chips. Wander the candy isle looking for Skittles.

**9:52PM:**

Who would put the chocolate body paint in a 7-11?

**10:00PM:**

Leave without the chips. This is getting to be too much.

**10:15PM:**

Back home. My home, that is. Walk up the steps-

**10:16PM:**

Ouch. Once again laying face first in the snow bank, with a blond geek beneath me this time.

**10:20PM:**

On TV, making out in a snow bank may be romantic. In real life? I can no longer feel my hands.

**10:40PM:**

Who needs hands anyway?

**10:53PM:**

Enter house, amazed that there are no alcohol bottles out. Something must have happened here.

**11:00PM:**

Locate mom in her room. Sober. Whoa.

**11:12PM:**

Questioned about the unfortunate demise of our living room phone. Oops.

**11:15PM:**

Enter room to find an IM waiting inviting me to dinner at the Girardi's tomorrow night. No way.

**11:16PM:**

Respond that I'll be there at six. I'm a sucker for pain.

**11:17PM:**

What a weird day..

**-End-**


End file.
